


She Was Not Lonely

by LilyHoncho



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, foxxay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyHoncho/pseuds/LilyHoncho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on two prompts:<br/>"The first day Misty is in the academy, she sees Cordelia’s scars and offers to heal them with her swamp mud. They talk during this and come to realize how similar they are and get a bit closer." & "Cordelia develops a bit of a staring at misty problem when she regains her sight."</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was Not Lonely

     She’d come in like a whirlwind, abrupt and out of nowhere, sweeping up every being that dare be caught up in her path. There was an aura of lightness about her, the way she radiated goodness and purity, all the while maintaining a very firm stature about her beliefs and what she felt was right. She was effortless in her entirety, and had Cordelia not been blind when she’d arrived, she was sure she, too, would’ve been swept up in her midst.

Blind. Cordelia was blind, but even with her lack of sight it wasn’t hard to see that this beloved sister witch was one of a kind. The vision she’d had from grasping mud-stained hands was enough to assure her of that fact.

As if she needed any further reasoning to believe that Misty was an absolute treasure, it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Cordelia was greeted by the bright presence of the other late one night.

“Hiya, Miss Cordelia....” was breathed, raspy cajun drawl as soft as the fabrics draped over lean shoulders, blonde wisps of hair cast over that very same frame.

“Misty?” though the headmistress was sure she’d committed the girl’s voice to memory, it was always better safe than sorry.

“What are you doin’ down here all alone like that?” a curious question, spoken as long legs carried a willowy witch toward the table at which Cordelia sat, hands wrapped around the surface of one piping mug.

“It’s hard to sleep. You would think always being surrounded by dark, it would come easily…” Cordelia pursed, taking the moment to lift the warm mug to her lips for a sip, silently scolding herself when the liquid that met her tongue was hotter than she had anticipated.

“I mean, I’m not blind, but I… I know it must suck somethin’ fierce. The world is so beautiful, I jus’ can’t imagine…”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ta---” in a rush, the wild-haired blonde was right beside the other, ringed fingers finding exposed wrist in attempts to try and console the other; something Misty soon regretted once she heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the woman get caught up in another one of her visions. “Shit, Miss Cordelia--- I apologize,”

Pulling her hand from the other’s touch, Cordelia’s retreated to her lap, the cup atop the table now absent of the hands that previously held it, just like the older woman had decidedly become. “No worries, you didn’t know.”

“No, no, I did know, I just--- I forgot.” Misty frowned, brows still stuck in an awful furrow as she crouched beside the other, blue eyes searching the woman’s face for any ounce of forgiveness, just to make certain.

“I said it was fine. I don’t believe you have even an ounce of ill-intent within you, I won’t hold it against you.” Cordelia spoke, her words coming out a tad more stern than she would have liked, though the gentle exhale it pulled from the other witch didn’t seem to be necessarily offended.

“I feel awful. You can’t see nothin’ and I just damn near rubbed it in your face,” Misty sighed, empty hand supporting herself from where she crouch beside the table. “is there any way I can help ya? ‘Cause, if there is, you jus’ tell me, an’ I’ll--- I’ll do what I can, okay?”

Something reminiscent of guilt tugged at Cordelia’s heart strings. This witch was so undeniably good, so genuinely trying to help, it pained her to have been even slightly off-put by the girl’s words before.  

“I’m just blind, I’m not dead.” Cordelia reminded, guilt soon replaced with her own version of self pity at the other’s honest admission. She felt somewhat helpless, having this sister witch talk to her as if she were some damaged soul in need of her help. If she really thought about it, she was. Every bit of Cordelia was as damaged and deserving of the pity. She was not only blind, but just about as lost in her own directions as one possibly could be. “Though death does sound a bit less of a burden.”

“Don’t you say that…” Misty scolded, though her voice was soft and void of any true discontent. “Life is a gift, you can’t treat it as anything less than that.” pursed lips soon gave way to a side-pulled frown, the swamp witch lifting to the heels of her boots, now having to look down at the seated other. “Does bein’ blind mean you can’t enjoy your life?” She asked.

“I would say so.” Cordelia admitted, arms just as soon crossed over her chest as she pushed back into her chair, shoulders as tense as her expression. “You forget how much of living is seeing until you cannot,”

“Maybe I can fix it.”

“I’m sorry?” she nearly sputtered on air, lost on just what the other could possibly mean.

“Maybe I can fix you.” Misty reiterated.

“Misty, I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do that I haven’t tried---”

“Come with me to my swamp.”

“It is after midnight, that is absurd, I will not---”

Ringed fingers found a her again, this time careful to go for a forearm so as not to touch exposed skin. Before Cordelia had a chance to draw in a breath, she felt the air around her shift, the surrounding silence soon replaced with the chirp and hums of the night, somewhere so clearly not within her quiet, white academy walls.

“Where have you taken me?” was breathed, Cordelia’s voice suddenly stirred by the uneasiness she felt in the new setting. The cold night air of a place she gathered must be the swamp Misty had mentioned tickled her skin, leaving goosebumps across what little was exposed to the elements. “How? How have you taken me----” she continued, now feeling especially vulnerable given the current predicament of not knowing. “you must know Transmutation?”

“I’ve got no idea what that means, but we’re here, so--- follow me.” Misty spoke, soon pulling at the woman’s arm to lead her down the clearing to her shack. “It might be a little scary, bein’ here an’ all that, but I won’t let nothin’ happen to ya. Trust me.”

Normally, she might have trusted Misty. There was no reason not to, she figured, but given the current situation, she was far off from trusting anyone. “Jesus, Misty--- are you insane?”

“If insane fixes your sight, I wouldn’t be complainin’...”

Before she knew it, she was pulled into a home that’s floors creaked wildly underneath her feet. The place didn’t feel very sturdy, and despite her better judgement, she let out a strangled yelp.

“Hush up,” Misty giggled, humored by the woman’s disheveled noise. “I got you, you’re okay.” She assured, seating the woman in a chair she’d pulled out from the corner. “Now, this is gonna be a little cold, most likely, so ah-- bear with me, yeah?”

Cordelia could hear the faint clink of something as it was opened, the dull ache of her eyes soon accompanied by a cool calm of some wet material that clung to her cheekbones like silk met with static. “Oh,” she breathed, fighting the urge to reach up and touch the foreign substance.

“It’s just mud. Don’t you fuss…” Misty cooed, plopping more of the cold concoction onto scarred cheeks. “Humic acid. Does wonders for damaged skin like yours. Even if I can’t fix the damage, I can at least soothe the symptoms.”

“I don’t think it’ll work…”

The swamp witch was silent at that, lips a full purse as she finished lathering up the woman’s eyes with her swamp mud. It wasn’t the first time someone was skeptical of mother nature’s answer to wounds,she knew. No one ever did believe her. This stuff was a God sent.

“Leave it be for a little while. We’ll stay here until it dries up, then I’ll scrape it off ya and we’ll see about gettin’ you home,”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“Should I have waited for ya to?” Misty asked, sparing the woman a glance over her shoulder as she took her signature jar of mud back to it’s place on the end table. “Darlin’, I think you’d just as easily sit by and let yourself stay like that. I know I don’t know you, I don’t know what ya been through, but I’m almost certain you ain’t the type to ask for help.”

“You’d be about right.”

“Didn’t think I’d be wrong, Miss Cordelia.”

The brief back and forth was ended with an abrupt silence, neither having much else to contribute to the conversation. With a huff, Misty took a seat on the edge of her squeaky bed, falling back on the palms of her hands to support her. A few seconds passed, Cordelia shifting uncomfortably under what she was sure was the other woman’s gaze.

“I hope it works.” Misty offered, blue hues flickering over the tense woman from where she sat. “I’d like to see what your eyes look like beneath all that.” She didn’t mean anything by it; it was just an honest admission.

“Boring and brown. You’d be disappointed.”

“Now, you don’t know that.”   
“I think I know my own eyes.”

Misty responded with a disgruntled sigh, not willing to fuel the conversation as it steered towards one of Cordelia’s self pity. Instead, she let her gaze flutter around the room, looking over the place that she had so recently left in the face of danger. “I should’a thought twice about comin’ back here. I don’t know if that witch hunter’s gonna be comin’ back any time soon. We could be sittin’ ducks.”

“God damn it.” Cordelia sighed, voice pitchy as she clutched at the chair she was seated in. “You brought me here knowing full well we could get killed?”

“Oh, shush. I was only kiddin’. If I thought we were in any danger, I wouldn’t have brought us here. You doubt me somethin’ awful, Miss Cordelia.”

“I don’t doubt you. I just worry about your good willed obliviousness.” Cordelia offered, unable to help the smirk that crossed her lips from teasing the other witch, only spurred on further by the sound of the woman standing and walking over towards her.

“You sayin’ I’m oblivious there, Miss?” Misty asked, brow perked in curiosity as she crouched for the second time beside the woman. “That’s not too nice of ya.”

“Then clearly, I must not be very nice.” Cordelia shrugged, a smile still evident on her features. This interaction had taken a turn, though not necessarily a negative one.

“I think you’re plenty nice. And I bet you’ll be plenty nice lookin’ to match once I heal those eyes of yours.”

“You saying I’m not pretty as is? Tsk, tsk.”

“Owh, I didn’t say nothin’ of the sort. You’re so full of it tonight, ain’t ya?”

“Little miss ‘pulled me out here to the swamps because you wanted to smear mud on my eyes’, how am I full of it?” Cordelia questioned, mouth agape in the feigned playful occurrence of shock.

“Mh, you want me to take it off ya then? Suit yourself, seems you just don’t need my kind of help….” Misty hummed, soon lifting to her feet to reach at the globs of mud laced over the woman’s features, hand just as soon caught by Cordelia’s and guided away, surprisingly not accompanied by an intake of breath or any visions of the sort, which prompted Misty to playfully try for it again with her other hand. “Stop that, I’m tryin’ to take this mud off you, what’re you doin’?” Misty giggled as her other hand was met with Cordelia’s holding it back. “How are you catchin’ me, ya can’t see---” she chuckled, draping one leg over the woman’s two to try and gain some leverage.

“Maybe not, but I can sure as hell feel…”

It was then that Misty became hyper-aware of how close their little playful interaction had brought them, the swamp witch so nearly poised over seated legs, just one footfall away from falling down into the woman’s lap. Blue eyes flitted down to the woman’s lips in the moment, silent and contemplating.

“Misty?” Cordelia breathed, voice suddenly measures quiet than it had been before. She could sense some sort of reluctance on the other’s part, but she wasn’t sure why. “Is something wrong---”

Pink lips clashed with plump ones, hands dried with mud soon lacing behind the back of the older woman’s neck as Misty situated herself in the other’s lap. It caught Cordelia off guard, and for a moment, she did not move. Misty pulled back, unsure, ready to apologize for her outburst.

“I’m sorry, I---”

Cordelia’s shaky hands interrupted her, reaching for the front of her dress to tug their lips back together, somehow so unafraid of physical contact that she was actually inviting it. Their lips met again, this time slowly. Misty managed a soft hum against the other, brows furrowed.

“You’re all muddy. We’re gonna make a mess.”

“Whose fault is that?” Cordelia muttered, stealing another kiss from the girl seated in her lap. “You dragged me out here, got me all muddy. This is all you,”

“What about this? Is this me, too?” Misty asked, eager lips connecting with Cordelia’s once again, dirty fingers slipping down the virgin pure skin of her neck, leaving behind a faint trail from the dried concoction on her fingertips.

“That’s all you.” Cordelia assured, though she reciprocated easily.

Pulling back from the kiss slowly, Misty noted the way the healing mix seemed to have dried. “Delia, I think… I think we can check it now.” she breathed.

“You think so?”

Misty nodded, though soon realizing the other couldn’t see, and blushed. She stood from the woman’s lap, stepping over to her drawers to search for a rag. “I’m gonna check it.”

Sure enough, as the rag pulled at gobs of the dried stuff, Cordelia felt light reach her eyes, and for once, actually saw the faint white glow through her lids. The more Misty pulled from them, the more light reached her. Before long, her face felt light, free of any mud, and she felt her heart pick up.

“Do you think it worked?” Cordelia heard herself ask, heart drumming in her ears.

“The scars are all gone.” Misty informed, admiring her work despite the slightly dirty look it left upon the woman’s face. “Hold on.”

She went for some water, wetting the rag to administer some finishing touches to the woman’s eyes. The rag was cool, the water soothing as it cleared her skin of any remnants of the mud.

“Can you open ‘em?” the swamp witch asked, taking a few steps back to toss the rag over to her nightstand. “Try. I wanna see.”

Brown eyes fluttered open, one willowy swamp witch being the first thing to grace her field of vision as she squinted to get the girl’s figure into focus. As soon as she had, she drew in a breath. Just as she’d thought, even with humidity teased hair and kohl smeared eyes of the night, Misty was absolutely stunning. She was transfixed.

“You’re--- you’re, uh, you’re starin’ at me…” Misty blushed, looking down to her fingers as she nervously picked some of the dried mud from them. “What for?”

“You’re absolutely breathtaking.” Cordelia admitted under her breath, still staring at the tall witch who stood a few feet away from her.

“You say that ‘cause I just healed your eyes.” the swamp witch smiled, lifting her gaze to look to the other.

“I say it because you’re beautiful, and because you were just sitting in my lap, kissing on me--- damn the luck,”

“Can we--- can we get back to that?” Misty asked shyly, smiling wildly as careful feet took a few steps forward. “Now that we’re past the whole blind thing, I’d really like ta… get to know you, y’know?”

Cordelia met Misty’s smile with her own, bottom lip soon tugged between pearly white teeth as she nodded, reaching out to gesture for the woman to return to her place in her lap. “Come right ahead.”


End file.
